I Know What I'M Gonna Do Today
by xLove-Hate-Relationshipx
Summary: Ferb is sick of Phineas always starring in the limelight. One day, he snaps, and realizes that even the most brilliant of people are capable of making mistakes big enough for the world.


**Disclaimer: I only own the plot of the story. **_**Phineas and Ferb **_**belongs respectfully to Disney Channel and the writers, Bobby Gaylor and Jeff "Swampy" Marsh. **

**Words: 1,104**

**Status: Complete, One-Shot**

**Summary: Ferb is always on the sidelines. And he's tired of it. What happens when the two inseparable brothers get in their first fight?**

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"Ferb, I know what we're gonna do today."

I had heard those words for as long as I could remember. Ever since Phineas could talk, he was telling me what we were going to do today. And yesterday. And tomorrow. And the day after that. And I was sick of it.

"We?"

He looked hurt when he replied, "It's always been 'we.' No one's ever had a problem with it before."

"No one but me, Phineas," I said sternly. "Everyday you boss me around like I'm you're sidekick. And it always comes out that way. Linda, Dad, and Candace _always_ refer to us as 'Phineas and Ferb.'

"'Phineas and Ferb this, Phineas and Ferb that. Phineas and Ferb are building a rocket. Phineas and Ferb are bathing a monkey.' I love your brilliance, Phineas, but why am _I _the one who's always stuck in the background?

"I do all the work, come up with my own ideas, and provide the brain power that you need to finish all of our projects. And you always get all the credit. Even when we were in a band, Phineas, you insisted upon naming it '_Phineas_ and the Ferb-Tones.' And I, for one, am sick of it."

He stood in silence for a moment, and I waited, the annoyance and seriousness in my eyes taunting him to speak.

And I knew, deep, deep, _very_ deep down inside, somewhere near my liver, that one day, we would have to make up. What were two teenagers, unable to drive legally, going to do? We lived in the same house, were step brothers for crying out loud, and one of our parents were going to figure out that something wasn't right and force us to mesh together again eventually.

After studying his shoes, as if they were very interesting, he fidgeted with his usual orange striped shirt before finally speaking.

"I can change."

"But you won't, and that's the problem."

"But I can, Ferb. I never knew you felt like that. And if you help me, I can."

"But you won't."

"But I _can_. You just have to force it out of me."

"And I, particularly, don't want to waste my time attempting such nonsense."

"Ferb, I-"

"Save your breath."

I turned and walked to the house, and trudged up to my-er, our-room.

When we had moved in, Linda had given me a choice. A rather important one, too, for someone of toddler age. Did I want to sleep in Phineas' room, or in my own?

Phineas, being my new best friend at the time, was quick to answer for me, as he had done many other times following that. And at the sound of four short words, my new life began. "He'll bunk with me."

My father, always being the reasonable and precautious one, had prepared a room for me down the hall, in case an instance such as the one we were now facing occurred.

Phineas' room was painted a pale blue, orange triangles framing the top and bottom in an intricate geometric pattern. A computer sat on the pine desk, and a matching dresser and nightstand stood opposite it. The bed, covered in various blue and orange linens, stood proudly between two large windows, overlooking the backyard's pond. Above that bed, was mine, covered in relaxing mint sheets and a powder blue comforter. My bookshelf sat in a lonely corner, a blue beanbag chair beside it.

I plopped on the inviting beanbag chair, and listened through the open window.

"Isabella, I just wish I could tell him he's making a mistake."

I leaped up and stared down at him.

"I DON'T MAKE MISTAKES!" I called.

I took one last look and walked across the hall.

"Candace?"

"Ferb?"

She gave me an incredulous glace.

"Can you help me move some stuff?"

"Sure, um, but why?"

"Ferb and I are in a…disagreement."

"Of course. And you expect me to believe that?"

"Yes, because it's true."

She stared at me, looking for any source that I was lying. Apparently she hadn't found any because she stomped into our room and gestured around, silently asking what I needed help with.

"Just the bookshelf, the beanbag, and some of my boxes of clothes."

"Get packing, I'll grab the stuff."

I pulled out an orange sweater, and silently folded it and placed it in a cardboard box. Then came a green tee shirt, some jeans, khakis, button-downs, and my immense collection of hoodies.

I sighed and thought about Phineas. No, he was off limits, even to my mind.

_No he's not. No one can read your mind._

Of course, so what exactly is he going to do about all of this?

_Maybe he'll go emo on us. That'd drive Linda nuts._

True, that's a hilarious thought. But I can't seem to picture a self-manipulative Phineas.

_Yes, you can. You just did. But you don't _like_ to picture Phineas doing something like that. You want him safe and sound. You want your friend back. Heck, you want your brother back, Ferb._

No, I don't. He treated me like scum.

I finished packing what I needed and carried the box to my room. The room that my dad had decorated for me in case of emergencies.

The walls were a tan; the decals were a mint, the color of my sheets. The curtains and linens were sky blue, and the carpeting was peachy orange. We put my bookcase in its rightful spot, and the beanbag right below it. I jumped on the large, comfortable bed, before finally thanking Candace and politely dismissing her.

Rummaging around in my drawers, ones I hadn't touched in what seemed like forever, I pulled out two pictures. One was of a couple. A familiar-in-a-weird-way couple. Like if you combined both of the people you'd get me. Well, a clone of me, as I already existed. My mom and dad.

Another was familiar, familiar in a way that said, "I see you everyday." Phineas and I, Candace, Linda, and Dad all standing in front of the house. It was the perfect family portrait.

And that's when I realized that, as much as I hate to admit it, I was very capable of making mistakes. And I was in the middle of a huge one right now.


End file.
